The House of Cooking Part 2: In The House of Cooking's Studio

I could never be a vegetarian for one simple reason: I like meat. Sure, I've heard a billion (literally. I've counted.) reasons to not eat meat. Not one has convinced me. Because I can give you two reasons why I eat meat that trump all arguments to the contrary.

Both those reasons are called incisor.

Herbivores don't have them. They are designed to cleave meat, sever tendons, carve flesh from bone and generally wreak havok on stuff that has blood inside. Animals that only eat plants are not equipped with them. Most of our success as a species can be attributed to the fact that we basically spent most of our history looking at the world and saying "NOM!" Hell, Cajun cooking is basically centred around making a stew by tossing a net into the swamp and cooking anything that wriggles. The fact that we are omnivorous is I would argue a substantial part of  who we are, as human beings. I don't have a problem with anyone who chooses not to eat meat, because hey, more meat for me, but I don't think it makes sense to omit it from our diet.

That said, I would like to discuss chicken. What? No Seque? Nope. I'm going to buck that tradition. See what I did there?

Chicken is a great meat. Unlike a lot of other things that taste like chicken, it IS chicken, so it simply tastes, I suppose. Possibly it tastes like itself. Regardless, it's good.

For the longest time I did very little when it came to prepping chicken. For a stir fry I cut it into cubes or slices and just cooked it. I baked or seared chicken breasts either plain in the frying pan or with maybe a mustard sauce of some kind. But no matter what, chicken always tasted to me dreadfully dry, and I don't think I realized how much so until I finally, finally tried my hand at brining.

Very simply, when you brine a chicken you infuse the meat with moisture, not to mention salty goodness (which is always a good fit for chicken). I could probably explain the chemistry behind it but I think it's unnecessary. Just do it. Brine your chicken. If you don't know how, pick up "The Joy of Cooking" and learn how. I'll give you a recipe below that tells you how I brine my chicken, but I typically cook chicken whole so my recipe won't work necessarily for smaller portions like breasts, thighs, and drumsticks, but the basics are there. You can probably reduce the proportions in my recipe for smaller portions of chicken, but really, if you don't already OWN "The Joy of Cooking" then you need to get it. It's about as important as owning forks.

Anyway, the added moisture and salt means that after cooking you don't end up with that dry, cloying, cling to the roof of your mouth, fibrous, wash it down with a splash of chardonnay thing that chicken sometimes does when it isn't brined. You know what I mean. When you take a bite of chicken, screw up your face and make a "ngyah ngyah" sound while you try and scrape the Gobi desert from your soft palate with the cracked ruin that used to be your tongue. That's what brining stops. Plus it's delicious. Did I mention chicken needs salt? I did. Chicken needs salt. Brining gives it salt.

Now, if you really want to play with your food, then brine your chicken first, drain it, and then use a dry rub and THEN bake or barbecue it. That's what I do and I have never once failed in being showered with comments about the perfection that is my chicken. I'll share with you my recipe. Most of it is dead simple, but the results should leave your guests wondering how you pulled it off.


Jeremy's "Couldn't Think of a Clever Name For It" Brined Roast Chicken
As mentioned earlier, this recipe is for a whole chicken. You could try and cut the proportions down for smaller portions of chicken, and definitely leave your chicken in the brine for a shorter time if using say, half a dozen chicken drumsticks instead of a whole chicken (as a general rule, 1 hour/lb is a good time) but why not do the whole chicken anyway? Not only do you end up with chicken sandwiches for later in the week, but if you have a spouse like D who won't even let bones go to waste she can render those bones and fat down into a nice broth that you can use later to grease the bearings on your car or, I dunno, make soup or something. Plus, making a whole chicken means you get to whack that thing down on the table at the neighborhood barbecue and say: "I made a whole chicken, suckahs! Eat it! Literally. That's why I made it. So it could be, you know, eaten."
Anyhow, here's the recipe. A bit of forewarning: I mentioned in my last post that I am not predisposed towards measuring. This is especially true for my rubs. The rub recipe below is a guideline only. Feel free to modify the proportions to your heart's content because I rarely make the same rub twice. That's half the fun.

1 whole chicken, 3-4 lbs
Brine
1 cup of coarse salt
A bagful of water (I will explain this in detail in a moment
Dry Rub
1-2 tbsp salt and the same of black pepper
1-2 tbsp lemon-garlic seasoning (if you can't find it, equal portions citric acid and garlic powder will likely make do)
2 tsp dry mustard
1 tbsp rubbed basil
2 tsp oregano
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper (be very careful with your cayenne. A little goes a LONG way)

Okay, so to begin there's usually all these instructions when brining on using non-reactive cookware and making sure the chicken is fully submerged or weighted or what have you. I'm going to make it simple. I brine my chicken, and I'm going to product plug here because they are perfect for the job, in Ziploc Double Zipper Heavy Duty LARGE Freezer Bags. I do so thusly: Take one of the bags, set it in a flat bottomed dish primarily to keep it from toppling over and spilling out all its contents once it's filled with water. Begin filling with cold water. Slowly add your cup of salt to the water as you fill, stirring it in as best you can. Your best will not be perfect and you will still end up with salt crystals at the bottom. Ignore this fact. Once the bag is about halfway full you should be done adding the salt. At this point insert chicken and continue filling the bag with water. When you have about 3 inches of air left at the top of the bag SLOW DOWN on adding water but do not stop. Instead, start sealing the bag. As the remaining three inches of space fill with water continue sealing the bag, until when you finally seal the other corner you actually end up squeezing some of the water out of your now completely full bag of briney goodness.
Congratulations, you now have a fully submerged bird that requires no weighting to keep it below the surface, no turning over while it brines, is successfully contained within non-reactive cookware. And all you had to do was fill a bag with water. I will accept applause.

Now stick it in the fridge for 4 hours and just let it rip. If you want to make your rub, now's the time.

To make the rub, take the ingredients listed under "Dry Rub" and mix them together in a pinch pot or appropriately sized small bowl. Yup.

Once four hours have passed you can prep the chicken for roasting. This is the hard part. It's also easy.

Remove chicken from brine. Do whatever you want to drain the bird (holding it over the sink for a couple of minutes works) and get rid of the brine. I really don't think there's anything that can be done with leftover brine. I don't suggest finding out. Now place the bird on a cutting board or large plate and rub it with the rub. Get the rub into all the nooks and crannies, or crooks and nannies as I used to call them, and don't be shy. Rub it like you mean it. Rub it like you hope it has a happy ending. Don't forget the inner cavity. Get some rubbing done in there too. It can only help. Once as much bird as can possibly be covered in rub is covered, or you've done your best and you're out of rub, only then can you stop rubbing.

If using the oven, as I typically do, preheat to 450 Farenheit. Put the chicken in a suitable roasting pan, I prefer uncovered personally so that the rub bakes right in, and place the whole monster on the bottom rack. Immediately reduce the temperature to 350 Farenheit (this seals the flavour in because of the initial high heat but ensures that the meat is cooked thoroughly at a lower temperature over a longer time without burning). Cook 20-30 minutes per pound until the internal temperature reaches 160-170 Farenheit, basting periodically. Even if you forget to baste it should still end up fairly moist, but basting can be fun in and of itself because you get to open the oven, smell your beautifully roasting chicken and just drink in the flavours through your nose. It's visceral and fantastic and one of the best experiences cooking has to offer.

If you use a barbecue, I recommend indirect heat if you have the option. I use a 3 burner grill and I turn on the two outside burners to medium or medium-high heat and place the chicken on the centre rack, preferably on a roasting stand such as one you would use to make beer butt chicken but without the beer, unless you wanted to give that a whirl at the same time. Same cooking times and stipulations on internal temperature apply but you'll need to take more care to make sure dripping fat doesn't set your bird to scorching. Just keep an eye on it.

Carve and serve. Or do as I do and have your spouse (who you secretly know does a better job than you do at it but you give the excuse that you cooked the meat so she gets to serve it up) carve the meat and serve. I'll probably post next time some vegetable dishes or side dishes that I think might nicely compliment this chicken, but frankly I'm out of steam tonight.

Try it and enjoy, however. And let me know if you do. Enjoy it, I mean. If you don't enjoy it keep it to yourself. I don't need the bad press.

Ah hell, any press will do.